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Chapter 127

Time continued to fly for Claire, especially through the holidays. The months of November and December always seemed to go by fast for her, with the usual hustle and bustle of the season, but this year, the holidays – and the year itself – were over before she knew it. She and Jamie rang in the new year together with a wedding just twenty-five days away on their minds.

Exactly one week before the big day, Dianna held Claire’s bachelorette party. “Just no male strippers, Di, please?” had been Claire’s only condition, so Dianna had obediently left any strip clubs or hired entertainment out of the plans and settled for taking Claire to a club and getting her trashed instead. She rented a white stretch limo and the VIP room of one of the hottest clubs in Tampa Bay, and that Friday night, she, Claire, the other bridesmaids, and a few other friends from high school and college piled into the limo and rode to the club in high style.

“Picture, girls!” called Dianna gleefully, handing her digital camera to their friend Stephanie and putting her arm around Claire. “Scoot in closer,” she motioned to the other bridesmaids, who were all sitting together at the back of the limo. They slid across the smooth, buttery leather seat and leaned into each other, framing Claire on either side.

“Smile!” said Stephanie, holding the camera up. The flash went off as she snapped the picture, making spots swim before Claire’s eyes.

“Ooh, lemme see!” A giddy Dianna grabbed her camera back and looked into the LCD screen. “Aww, it’s cute!” she cooed, passing the camera to Claire so she could see, too.

Claire smiled at the small image of her and her closet girlfriends. They did look cute, courtesy of Dianna, who had made Claire and the bridesmaids special t-shirts for the occasion. Claire’s was white and had the word Bride scrawled across the front in silver fabric paint. Dianna had added rhinestones and silver glitter to the wet paint, making the whole shirt sparkle and gleam. On the back, across her shoulder blades, her name, Claire, sparkled the same way. The bridesmaids’ shirts were identical, except they were dark purple, the same color of the gowns they’d be wearing next Friday, and said Bridesmaid on the front. Dianna, of course, had put Maid of Honor on her own.

“That is cute!” Claire agreed, passing the camera on to Jenn. Jenn was a professional photographer, but even she agreed that it was a good picture and handed the camera to Laureen.

They snapped more pictures on the way to the club, and Dianna passed around Mardi Gras beads for them all to wear. “One silver and one purple,” she instructed with the bossy tone that tended to creep into her voice from time to time.

Amber scooted closer to Claire and leaned in. “Am I going to look ridiculous running around a club in a baby tee and Mardi Gras beads like I’m still in my twenties?” she whispered teasingly out one side of her mouth.

Claire laughed, watching Dianna loop the long strings of silver and purple beads around the girls’ necks, making sure everyone had a set. “You won’t look any more ridiculous than the rest of us,” she whispered back. She wasn’t really the glitter and beads type either, but Dianna had put so much effort into planning this that she would never complain.

That was, until Dianna pulled one last thing out of her bag of goodies – a silver, rhinestone-encrusted, plastic tiara, with a short, flimsy, white veil attached to the back. “I am not wearing that,” Claire protested when Dianna brought it over to her.

“Yes, you are!” Dianna insisted with a wide grin, reaching up to put the tiara on Claire’s head.

Claire grabbed her wrist. “Aw, Di, come on – a tiara?? It’s my wedding, not my coronation,” she laughed.

“It’s your bachelorette party, girl! You’re queen for the night! Now wear the tiara,” Dianna commanded, trying again to attach it to Claire’s head.

Claire ducked out from under it. “Di – do I look like the type who wears tiaras?”

Dianna gave her a long-suffering look. “Oh, that’s right – you’re the type who would rather make me dress up as a clothesline with you for Halloween than go with my prom queen idea.”

“Hey, you were the one who wanted us to enter the pairs category for the costume contest at school!” Claire pointed out. “There can’t be two prom queens. I was all for doing Siamese twin prom queens, or the two-headed mutant prom queen, but nooo, you wouldn’t do that. Besides, our clothesline get-up totally won us that contest.”

“You freak,” muttered Dianna, whacking her playfully upside the head.

Stephanie started laughing. “I remember when you guys did that clothesline thing! Junior year, right? That was great!”

Claire beamed, while Dianna leaned over her again, still trying to crown her. “Do you know how long it took me to get the stupid veil to stay on this thing?” she scolded Claire, holding up the tiara. “I burnt my finger with the hot glue gun, look.” She held up one of her perfectly-manicured, ringed fingers, which had the smallest of blisters on the tip.

Still, her persistence was enough for Claire, who finally smiled exasperatedly and sighed, “Alright, fine. Queen me.”

Grinning, Dianna slid the tiara onto her head and immediately started fussing with it, straightening and securing it, fluffing her hair around it, smoothing the veil that trailed over the back of her head. “There,” she said finally, standing back to inspect her work. “Trust me, Claire, you look adorable.”

Claire stuck out her tongue. She still felt sort of ridiculous sitting there in a veiled tiara, but Dianna was right – it was her bachelorette party, and for tonight, she was queen. As the limo pulled up in front of the club and the noise level rose, she knew she was going to have a ball.

***

“One of these weekends, we’re gonna go out and get crazy, Nicky,” Howie had told Nick at New Year’s. “It’s a new year, and it’s gonna be a better one for you, kid.”

Two weeks later, Howie and AJ, who was in Florida visiting his mom, drove over from Orlando to go clubbing with Nick. “Just us guys,” they’d promised, leaving their girlfriends behind. Once in Tampa, they hooked up with a couple of their security guards from tour, who lived in the area and had become as much buddies as bodyguards over the years, and together, they hit the clubs.

“Sorry, guys, but our VIP room is booked tonight,” said the owner of Stingray, one of Nick’s old favorite clubs, which was located near the coastline. “Bachelorette party,” he added apologetically.

The guys exchanged glances and shrugs. Finally, Nick spoke up, “That’s alright; it’s cool. More ladies in the main room anyway, right, fellas?” The others laughed and nodded agreeably, and, looking relieved, the owner escorted them in and cleared a large table at the back of the room for them. They ordered drinks at once.

For Nick, the night was a much-needed escape. An escape from his own troublesome thoughts.

Claire’s wedding was only a week away, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d sent her his RSVP card right before Christmas, letting her know that he was coming. It hadn’t been such a hard decision once he’d thought about it. Sure, he didn’t want to see her marry Jamie, but maybe if he was there to see it happen, he would be able to accept it. Accept the fact that he had lost her forever. Then maybe he could finally move on with his life, find a woman who wouldn’t leave him because he was still too hung up on his ex-fiancée.

Maybe I’ll start on that tonight, thought Nick as he sipped his drink, eyeing a group of women who seemed to be checking them out from across the room. As the cluster of girls made their way over to the table, he smiled. Like Howie said, it’s a new year.

***

Less than an hour later, Nick was completely bored with the girls Howie had invited to join their table. They were hot, no doubt, dressed to kill in tight miniskirts and skimpy, sequined tops. But their faces were so heavily made-up that they looked almost like Barbie dolls, plastic and artificial, all sort of identical except for their different-colored hair.

The one who had been fawning all over Nick all night was brunette. He kept nodding to her as he nursed his beer, acting like he was paying attention to what she was saying, but in all actuality, he couldn’t really hear her over the loud music, and he didn’t really care what she was saying anyway. To him, she was just another shallow groupie, someone who was only giving him the time of day because he was famous. All she saw when she looked at him, dollar signs in her eyes, was Nick the Backstreet Boy. All he saw when he looked at her was a girl he could easily get into bed and fuck, but didn’t want to. She didn’t know him, and he didn’t really care to know her.

She wasn’t Claire.

You’re never gonna move on with that attitude, Nick scolded himself and decided he needed another drink. “Anyone want anything from the bar?” he asked, slipping away from What’s-her-face. When a second passed without anyone answering, he walked away, leaving his half-empty beer bottle on the table.

The latest hot dance song was blaring over the speakers, and the dance floor was packed, hot, sweaty bodies moving over every inch. The bar was not as crowded, and Nick gratefully found an empty stool and sat down. “Jack and Coke,” he told the bartender, deciding it was time for something a little stronger. Just as he took his first swig from the whiskey glass filled with brown liquid, he noticed, out of the corner of his eye, someone sliding onto the stool next to him.

Setting his glass down, he glanced over and found himself gazing at a blonde woman. She wasn’t nearly as attractive as the girls he’d left behind at his table, older and heavier and with frizzier hair. But she was also more tastefully dressed and wore less makeup, which made her look much more natural and appealing. She had light blue eyes that seemed cool at first, but warmed when she caught him looking at her. She smiled. “You’re Nick, right?”

He gave a quick wink and a nod, choosing to say nothing else. He didn’t want her to make a big deal over it, like the other girls had.

Thankfully, she didn’t. Her smile grew, and all she said was, “I thought so. I saw you earlier, but you looked like you were pretty occupied.”

He smirked. “Yeah, well… I’m here and not there anymore for a reason.”

She laughed and then held out her hand. “I’m Carmyn Kearn.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “Caramel Corn??” he echoed; was that just what she had said?

The woman laughed. “Nooo! I’m Carmyn. Carmyn… Kearn…” she pronounced her name slowly and loudly, leaning in close to him.

“Ohhh… Carmyn.” Well, now he felt stupid. Why would her name have been Caramel Corn? Smiling sheepishly, he took her head. “Nice to meet you, Carmyn.”

As she smiled back, he noticed the way her eyes dropped briefly from his, making a quick beeline down his body. Checking me out, Nick thought with amusement, smirking as she seemed to zoom in on his lap. Just as quickly, her eyes were back on his face. Seeming to realize she’d been caught, she blushed, but didn’t acknowledge it out loud.

Nick didn’t really care; he was used to it and only hoped she at least liked what she was seeing. His body had started returning to its old form once he’d stopped taking the prednisone, and though he was still carrying around extra weight that he hadn’t yet shed, he thought he looked a lot better than he had a few months ago.

“Can I get you something, ma’am?” the bartender asked Carmyn brusquely.

“Um, yes… a White Rabbit, please?”

The bartender nodded and went to make her drink. While she waited, Carmyn looked over at Nick again. “So, Nick, do you come here a lot?”

He shrugged. “I used to. Not as much anymore, but yeah…” He started to nod. “It’s a good club.”

“I think so too. Do you dance? I mean, like, in clubs?”

He shrugged again. “Sort of… I guess,” he answered awkwardly. “Why, do you?”

She gave him a little smirk. “Sort of… I guess,” she echoed his answer, winking. “I’m not really that good at it, but I have fun doing it.”

“Well, that’s all that matters,” he smiled.

“If that’s how you feel, maybe we could dance later, huh?” she offered, raising an eyebrow.

His first instinct was to hesitate, but he didn’t. Instead, he nodded. “Alright, cool.”

“Here ya go.” The bartender slid Carmyn’s drink across the bar, a tall, frosty glass filled with thick, creamy, white liquid.

“Ever had one of these? A White Rabbit?” asked Carmyn as she took a sip, closing her eyes to savor the taste.

Nick shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think so. What’s in it?”

“Vanil vodka, vanilla liqueur, milk, and ice. Really fattening, but really good. You want a sip?” she asked, offering him the glass.

“Oh, no thanks. I’m good,” he said, taking another drink of his Jack and Coke. “I’m trying to drop a few pounds anyway.”

“Really?” She cast him an amused look. “Me too, but you don’t need to. You look good, just the way you are.”

“Well, thanks,” he chuckled, feeling his cheeks grow warm as he saw her eyes travel to his lap again. She totally wants in my pants, he realized, and for some reason, he was more flattered than he had been by the girls who just wanted in his pants pocket, to dig out his wallet.

She seems nice, he thought as he sat and drank alongside her, making small talk. Nice… normal… He was liking this.

It was too soon to be thinking such things, but maybe, he thought, just maybe, there was hope for his love life in 2008 after all.

***

“So, bride-to-be, you havin’ fun?” Dianna asked, patting Claire’s knee roughly. Thought she outweighed Claire, Dianna was a lightweight when it came to alcohol, and after a few mixed drinks, she was incredibly tipsy and more giggly than ever. But fun, Claire had to admit. It would take her friend a few more drinks to go from fun drunk to sloppy, annoying drunk.

“I am havin’ fun!” Claire cried back, and she was. She and her friends had a whole room to themselves at the club, everyone was getting along and getting to know each other, and the laughter was flowing just as much as the liquor. She was getting pretty tipsy herself because they all kept buying her drinks, putting something new in front of her each time she finished a glass, but she didn’t care one bit. It was her bachelorette party, damn it; she fully intended on getting trashed, even if it meant a miserable day tomorrow.

“I need another drink!” Dianna announced, dancing around unsteadily with her empty cocktail glass. “Claire, you want another drink?”

Claire looked at her own glass; it was almost empty. “Sure,” she said, standing. She swayed for a moment, light-headed from the alcohol, and waited until the room stopped spinning. “I’ll come with you,” she added.

“Oh, you don’t have to! You’re the bride! I’ve got it; what do you want?”

Claire wasn’t sure she trusted Dianna to remember her drink order by the time she got to the bar, let alone to get there and back without tripping and spilling their drinks everywhere. “I’ll come with you,” she said again, nodding. Looking around at her gang of girls, she asked, “Anyone else?”

Jenn stood. “I’ll come.” Jenn had had just as much to drink as any of them, but still, she was as cool and calm as ever. Jenn could hold her liquor. To a point. Once she hit that point, the cool façade she always maintained slipped away, and she turned just as giddy and giggly as Dianna. Claire had only seen it happen a few times, in college, but each time it was hysterical. Dianna was bubbly even when she was totally sober, but to see cynical, dry Jenn that way was just comical.

The three women made their way out into main area of the club to hit up the large bar there. Claire hooked her elbow through Dianna’s to make sure she stayed upright; her friend was wobbling precariously on her platform shoes. Jenn walked just a head of them, expertly paving a path through the crowd. Her figure was as skinny and straight as a stick, but somehow, when Jenn came through, people drifted out of her way. She just had a way about her. Maybe it was her eyes. They were a vivid shade of olive green, and because they were always heavily bordered by black eyeliner and mascara, they appeared even sharper. Coupled with her dyed black hair and naturally fair skin, her features were altogether striking. Though she wasn’t classically beautiful, she was the kind of woman who attracted looks. Claire, on the other hand, knew she was only getting looks herself either because she was following Jenn or because she was still wearing that stupid tiara.

The bar was crowded, so Jenn turned and shouted, “I’ll order! What do you guys want??”

Claire and Dianna shouted their orders to her above the pulsing music, and Jenn slid her thin frame through the bulk of people crowded by the bar, eventually disappearing among them. Claire and Dianna hung back, waiting for her to return. As they waited, Claire looked around, watching people grind on the dance floor and mingle on the sides. Her attention eventually moved to the bar, as she looked around for Jenn. She still couldn’t see her, but as her eyes traveled down the bar, she honed in on someone else.

It was like she had a special radar for him. Nick. There were lots of other people around him, but she only noticed him, sitting at the bar with his back to her, his body turned towards the blonde woman next to him.

“Nick’s here,” she said, staring.

“What??” Dianna shouted into her ear, stumbling against her.

Claire grabbed her shoulder and pointed. “Nick,” she said, directing Dianna’s gaze towards him. “He’s here.”

Dianna’s eyebrows flew up. “Well, well… that’s special, huh? D’you think he came here on purpose?”

“What?”

“Cause he knew you’d be here?”

“He didn’t know,” replied Claire. “I’ve barely seen him since the new year; he didn’t know my bachelorette party was tonight. And here, no less.”

“Well, what are the chances?” laughed Dianna. “Well, don’t feel bad; looks like he’s got a lady friend with him tonight.”

They both squinted at the woman he was with. She looked older, in her early thirties at least. Claire had never seen her before and wondered if she had come with Nick, or if he’d just met her here. What does it matter? she wondered. Why should she care who Nick was with? If he did have a “lady friend,” as Dianna put it, then good for him. She’d be happy for him.

Dianna looked around. “Think he came alone, or are there other Backstreet Boys here tonight?” she wondered out loud, craning her neck.

“Looking for AJ?” Claire smirked. “Hate to break it to you, hon, but he’s engaged. Has been since summer. Nick told me.”

“Damn,” Dianna said, then shrugged. She didn’t really look upset; her mild crush on AJ was just something Claire liked to tease her about. “That’s okay. I think Todd and me might get engaged soon ourselves.”

Now Claire’s eyebrows shot up. “Really??” She grabbed her friend’s arm excitedly. “Wow, that would be great! I didn’t realize you two were so serious!”

“That’s cause you’ve been too busy planning your wedding,” Dianna laughed, stumbling into Claire again. “So hey, are you gonna go say hi to Nick, or what?”

Claire looked over at him again. He was still talking to the blonde. She hesitated. “Jenn’s gonna be back with our drinks.”

“So? I’ll tell her where you went. Yours’ll be waiting for you when you come back.”

“Okay,” Claire decided, laughing. “Be back in a bit.” Making sure Dianna was standing upright, she left her friend and started to make her way over to where Nick was sitting. She’d only taken a few steps when he suddenly slid off his stool. Claire hesitated. The woman with him got up too, and Nick took her hand, leading her towards the dance floor.

Claire stood still for a moment, watching them disappear amongst the dancing clubbers. But then, she was too curious not to follow.

***

When there was nothing left in her glass but a heap of sticky ice, Carmyn turned to Nick and asked, “So… how about that dance?” She raised her eyebrows suggestively, and he smiled.

“Alright.”

Sliding off his barstool, he grabbed her hand and walked her onto the dance floor. He liked the way people seemed to dance either in pairs or small circles of friends; everyone was so engrossed in their own dancing that they barely paid attention to what was going on around them. He didn’t want attention; he just wanted to dance with Carmyn without feeling like a fool.

A dance remix of Rick James’ “Superfreak” started playing as they found an empty space. One of the reasons Nick liked this club was because it was known for playing a lot of old seventies and eighties dance tracks, which he thought were a lot better than the stuff on the radio now. “I’m Rick James, bitch!” he shouted about the music; Carmyn giggled at the Dave Chappelle impression.

She started moving to the music, her eyes roaming his body as he joined her. They danced apart, then drifted together. Carmyn came on strong, pressing her body against his like white on rice. He let his hands roam her hips while she bumped and grinded against him. She kept gravitating towards his left side, and his first instinct was to shift so that she wouldn’t bump up against the hard plastic socket of his prosthesis. He hadn’t been sure if she knew or not, but he quickly decided she must. There was no way she couldn’t feel it, the way she kept grinding against him, their hips close together. She didn’t seem to mind though; when he looked at her, there was no sign of surprise or revulsion on her face, only pleasure. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open, as she swayed to the music and writhed against him, seeming lost in the music and the heat of the moment.

Nick sang along playfully, grinding back against her, grinning devilishly. “She’s a superfreak, superfreak, she’s super freakay!”

***

A few feet away, Claire watched as Nick danced with the blonde. They weren’t the most impressive couple on the dance floor, but they looked like they were having fun. Nick was smiling and laughing, singing along. He looked adorable. And hot too, she decided, her eyes roaming over his body. He looked really good, the effects of the prednisone from a few months ago all but gone now. Not that she was checking him out… no, no, she was merely making an observation. Yet as she observed the unfamiliar woman grind up against him, she felt a surprising pang of envy.

How can you be jealous? she scolded herself, unable to deny the fact that a part of her was, just a tad. You’re getting married next week, and Nick’s just a friend, just a thing of the past. He can dance that way with whoever he wants.

But what made her envious was the fact that he’d never danced with her that way. It was silly, because she wasn’t that great of a dancer herself, and when they were together, she’d never minded that he didn’t feel comfortable trying to dance. But now, watching him with that other woman, she suddenly wished she were in her place, dancing and having fun with Nick.

“It’s the alcohol talking,” she mumbled to herself, deciding she should go back to her friends… and drink more, of course. She felt pathetic standing here in her bride tiara, getting jealous because Nick had found someone new to dance with. She needed to go before the booze let her emotions get the better of her.

Yet as she turned to walk away, the song ended, and she found herself turning back, curious to see what they would do then. At that exact moment, Nick took his eyes off the woman he’d been dancing with and looked around. As if he, too, had some kind of radar, his eyes suddenly locked on her.

***

Laughing breathlessly, Nick let go of Carmyn, feeling a rush of dizzy exhilaration from the dancing. He was really out of shape, he decided, realizing how winded he already was, but it had been fun. Stopping to catch his breath as the next song started, he casually looked around.

Most of the other clubbers were dressed in dark clothes, lots of blacks and silvers, so the flash of sparkly white instantly caught his eye. As if she were a beacon, a shining ray of light in the dusky crowd, he found himself looking at Claire.

He stared in shock at first; she was the last person he expected to see here tonight. But when she started walking his way, her eyes in line with his, and he looked closer, he suddenly understood. She was wearing cropped black pants, but her shirt was pure white and spelled out the word Bride in silver rhinestones. On her head was an equally sparkly tiara. Vaguely, he remembered Stingray’s owner saying there was a bachelorette party at the club that night, and now he knew just whose party it was.

“Bachelorette party, huh?” he said when she came up to him, a sheepish smile on her face.

“Gee, is it that obvious?” she teased, twirling around in her t-shirt and tiara. “Dianna dressed me this way,” she added, as if it needed an explanation.

“I see.”

“So what are you doing here tonight?” she asked, smiling. “And who’s your friend?” Her gaze panned to Carmyn, who was looking between Nick and Claire uncertainly.

“This is Carmyn,” Nick introduced, putting his arm on Carmyn’s shoulder as he brought her shoulder. “Not Caramel Corn,” he added, winking to her. She giggled. “And Carmyn… this is Claire. She’s… an old friend.”

Claire smiled, close-lipped, and nodded. “Nice to meet you,” she told Carmyn, and Carmyn echoed the same.

“So you’re getting married?” asked Carmyn. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

“So where’s the rest of your party?” Nick asked Claire. There was no sign of Dianna or her other friends around her.

“Oh, we’ve got a private room back there,” replied Claire, motioning over her shoulder. “I was just going to get a drink, and I saw you dancing. Thought I’d see if I could catch your attention and say hey.”

“Well, you got it. Hey, actually, I could use another drink too, and I should probably buy the Bride a shot or something – whaddya say?” he offered.

Claire grinned. “I say, sounds good to me!”

Holding on to Carmyn with one hand and Claire with the other, Nick walked back to the bar, feeling like a regular pimp. “Carmyn, what can I get you?” he asked his new acquaintance first, and when she named another mixed drink, he turned to Claire. “And you, Miss Bachelorette?”

“How about a shot of tequila?” she requested. “You know, with salt… limes…”

“You got it,” he grinned and when he got the bartender’s attention, he ordered Carmyn’s drink and two shots of tequila. The shots came first, and Nick picked up the two tiny glasses and handed Claire hers. “Together, on three, okay?” he directed, and she grinned, nodding, and held hers up. “Ready, one… two… three.” At the same time, they downed the shots, chasing the burning liquid with a squeeze of lime.

His tongue and throat on fire, Nick closed his eyes as the rush of hard liquor went to his head. When he opened them, he found Claire smiling at him, looking as exhilarated as he felt. She looked beautiful, he realized, glittering under the bar lights, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright from the scorch of the tequila.

He turned to Carmyn, who had just gotten her drink. “Hey, you mind if I dance one song with the bride-to-be?” he asked her in a low voice, leaning close to her ear so that Claire wouldn’t hear.

“No, go right ahead,” Carmyn replied casually. “I’ll work on my drink. Come back, though, if you want another dance or something later,” she added, giving him a pointed look.

He nodded, promising he would be back, and then he turned back to Claire. “So,” he said, putting his hand on her knee, “since this is one of your last nights a free woman… how about a dance?”

“With an old friend?” Claire asked, her smile teasing. “Of course, Nick. Come on.” She grabbed his hand, and they left the bar together, making their way back to the dance floor. The Madonna song that had been playing ended, and Prince’s “When Doves Cry” came on. “Aww, I love this song!” shouted Claire, starting to sway to the music.

Nick moved his body in time with hers. They didn’t touch each other at first, but slowly, their hands and hips found each other. To some, it might have seemed wrong, him dancing so close to a woman in a t-shirt that said Bride, his ex, a woman who was engaged to someone else. But to Nick, it felt so right, so comfortable and natural. Besides, they were just dancing. Dancing was fun; that’s all it was. It didn’t mean anything. Claire could rub her body against his all she wanted, but he knew that a week from tonight, she would still be marrying Jamie. She’d made her choice.

He tried not to think about it as he danced with her, his hands brushing her shoulders, her back, her torso, all parts of her he knew intimately. He didn’t want to think about the fact that, in a week, those parts would “belong” to Jamie. She would be Jamie’s forever, bound by the vows of marriage, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. He and AJ had joked about crashing the wedding, but he never would. He wouldn’t do that to Claire, even if he thought she was making a mistake.

“Hey!” Her voice above the music made him look down. “Are you okay?” she shouted, still moving, but with a look of mild concern on her face.

He realized he’d let his mind wander and hadn’t been paying attention. “Fine!” he yelled back, and from then on, he concentrated only on her and the music, the pulse that matched his movements, the harmony of her body swaying with his. He could feel the sexual tension, the chemistry there, even if he knew they would never talk about it.

What they’d had was over, and yet, dancing with her now, it was more clear to him than ever – his feelings hadn’t changed. He’d spent almost the last four years of his life loving her, and at this rate, he always would. Loving her had brought him so much happiness, through some of the darkest times of his life, and yet now, it seemed like a curse. She was marrying someone else, and whether he liked it or not, he would have to find someone else to love or be alone forever.

The reality of this situation reemerged when the song faded away, and they floated off the dance floor. “Whew, that tequila went to my head – I’m dizzy!” she exclaimed, giggling. “I think I should sit down.”

“Yeah, probably a good idea,” Nick agreed.

She looked up at him, offering a crooked smile. “You should go sit with Carmyn… you don’t want to keep her waiting. And I need to get back to my girls before they send out a search party.”

He laughed lightly, trying to cover up the fact that he didn’t want her to go. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

She nodded. “So… yeah… thanks for the dance, Nick. Can’t believe we ran into each other here on this, of all nights, but… yeah. Thanks.” She smiled again and hugged him. “You look great, by the way. And you don’t dance half-bad either,” she added with a wink as she pulled away.

Grinning, he replied, “Yeah, well, you don’t look half bad in a crown either.” He couldn’t resist giving her hair a playful tug, sending the tiara askew. He straightened it for her and then said, “I guess I’ll see you soon… next week, if not before.”

Looking up at him, she smiled, but he could see her teeth digging into her bottom lip. “Alright, sounds good,” she said quietly, her voice barely audible with the music playing in the background. “Have fun tonight,” she added, touching his arm briefly before she started to walk away. “Bye, Nick.”

“See ya,” he echoed her, watching as she made her way back to the VIP room, weaving slightly from the alcohol. A sigh rose from his chest, but he swallowed it away and turned to go find Carmyn. At this point, going after Claire would be a lost cause.


I’m not afraid to cry every once in awhile
Even though going on with you gone still upsets me
There are days, every now and again, I pretend I’m okay
But that’s not what gets me

What hurts the most
Is being so close
And havin’ so much to say
And watchin’ you walk away
And never knowin’
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was trying to do

It’s hard to deal with the pain of losing you everywhere I go
But I’m doing it
It’s hard to force that smile when I see our old friends and I’m alone
Still harder getting up, getting dressed, living with this regret
But I know if I could do it over
I would trade, give away all the words that I saved in my heart
That I left unspoken

What hurts the most
Is being so close
And havin’ so much to say
And watchin’ you walk away
And never knowin’
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was trying to do

- “What Hurts the Most” by Rascal Flatts


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